AJ goes to camp

My boy is going to a month of "camp" at the Montessori school that he will be attending. He goes three times a week for four hours. He's two years old. We decided that it was absolutely essential to get all of the following to facilitate camp preparedness:

new t-shits
new polo style shirts
new shorts
new sneakers
new socks
a new backpack (with Lightning McQueen and The King, naturally)
a new lunch kit (also adorned with Cars characters)
two different kinds of snack bars
three different kinds of snacks in pouches
a sandwich holder with a built in ice pack to keep the sandwich cool, if desired
a snack holder with a built in ice pack, to keep the snacks cool, if desired

You'd think we're sending him off to backpack through Europe or something.

The List - #50 completed

#50. Make a pizza from scratch, including the dough.

I've never made pizza at home. I'm sure we did it a few times when I was a kid, but as an adult (or whatever I am now), I've just never seen the point in expending so much effort when you can just get someone to literally bring some right to your door. At least, that's how I felt before. But as I have learned more about cooking and have grown to appreciate the stuff I make myself, this seemed like a natural way to go. I got a pizza stone and a great trio of pizza-themed cookbooks for Father's Day so this was a great chance to put it all together and give it a shot.

I started with the sauce. I'm currently trying to eat really healthy food and drop a few more pounds, and obviously this is not a lifestyle that meshes well with pizza consumption. But I figured I would do what I could, so I opted to use a sauce recipe from The Biggest Loser family cookbook. I have made this once before and I really liked the taste, healthy or not. I made it again, although I didn't have the crushed red pepper that the recipe called for so I substituted ground cayenne pepper, which added a little extra spice that I enjoyed.Next up was the dough, and this was the only part of the equation that I was worried about. I'm not a baker. This makes no sense, because I love pretty much any baked good that I can get my paws on. But I have never learned how to do it, aside from following a pre-packaged mix or something similarly easy. But I picked a basic dough recipe from one of the pizza cook books and got down to it. It rose just like it was supposed to. I've worked in pizza places before, yet my dough-working skills are still a bit lacking. I did the best I could, or at least gave it a good shot as a total rookie. Pie number one was basically a simple margherita, with sauce, good mozzarella cheese, and basil. I don't think I got the dough pounded thin enough. It was very tasty, but the bottom crust was not at all crusty.For pizza number two, I went for pepperoni and shredded mozz. I intentionally wanted to keep things pretty simple this first time out and I was happy with the results. I think I got the dough in better shape on this second pie, and it was also really delicious. The outside crust was great, but the bottom was still not as crisp as I would like. I think I can get this better in future attempts. Overall, I give the experience a big thumbs up. It was fun to do, and the resulting pies were definitely better than any pizza delivery chain stuff. I will keep at this.

The List - #13 completed

#13 (from Esquire). Get a deep tissue massage.

Before this year I had never gotten a massage. My wife loves them, and we went to Las Vegas in January and she thought it would be a great idea to get a couples massage. I wasn't at all opposed to the idea, just generally I can find something else I would rather do with my time and/or my money, especially in Vegas. But we got one and it was great. My back has been bothering me off and on a lot lately, and I've noticed that when I get a massage, it actually makes it a little worse at first, and then it feels great a day or two later. I have no idea if this is standard for everyone.

I was back in Vegas in April and since I arrived before the other guys coming in, I got another one. Another winner. But I had never had a deep tissue massage until a couple of weeks ago, at the Bliss spa at the W Hotel in Scottsdale. My masseuse recommended it and said it would be great for the back issues. I ended up with a big sore spot the next morning, but shortly after that it felt really great and loose. I even sprung for the ridiculously overpriced minty exfoliating stuff she suggested--bag pictured in photo. I tried that at home and it was very tingly, invigorating, and refreshing.

That last sentence is probably the gayest thing I have ever written in this blog.

The List - #103 completed

103. Hang the big mirror by the front door.

Okay, so this isn't a really earth-shattering item from The List, but it was a good one to knock out. We've had this mirror for a long time--at least as long as we've lived here, I think, which is just over a year now. But I never hung it up. The main reason (aside from simple laziness) was the need to not only find proper and secure mounting stuff for the wall, but that the mirror itself also needed special mounting pieces added to the back of it. But within the first week of starting The List, I decided this would be an easy one to do, even for a not-so-handy guy like myself. I mounted two brackets on the back with a screwdriver, which was a piece of cake because there was a nice, solid piece of wood on there, as if placed exactly for such a task. The other bonus was that there were two studs in the wall located pretty much exactly where we wanted the mirror to hang. So up it went. One item down, 150 to go.

The List

Last year Esquire magazine published a piece called 75 Things Every Man Should Do Before He Dies. I'm a sucker for that kind of stuff, so re-reading it recently sent me searching the web for similar ideas, where I came across a site called Day Zero, where people post lists of 101 specific things they want to do over the course of 1,001 days. Both of these things are very cool, so I combined them into my own master list: the 75 from Esquire, plus 76 of my own, resulting in a list of 151 things to do over the next 1,001 days. I started on June 3. It also warrants mentioning that the Esquire list has some items that I have already done, and others that are fairly unattainable. I don't see myself going to Paris for two weeks, for instance. That would be great, but it just isn't happening any time over the next three years. There are a few other items on the list that just aren't going to happen, either.

But when paired with my own additions, I have lots of items on The List that I can do. I'm off to a good start. I've already knocked out a few things and several others are in various stages of progress. Since I'm often at a loss for things to blog about, The List will provide some great ideas. I'll try to get pictures when I take care of cool items on there, and I will update my progress here.

Nine People I Could Live Without At The Gym

I don't think I will ever really love going to the gym. I've gotten back into a good groove of going regularly, and I always feel better having gone to get a work out in. And it helps immensely that A.J. actually likes going with me now. All of that being said, there are certainly people and types of people at the gym that I have no need or desire to come across. I bet a few of these are familiar to everyone. So, here they are: NINE PEOPLE I COULD LIVE WITHOUT AT THE GYM 1. Moaning and groaning in the shower guy. Yikes. I'm sure you just had an awesome workout, and that warm water coursing over your taxed body now feels really invigorating. But you're not at home, dude. You're in a fairly small, somewhat confined space with other naked strangers. Let's keep any clearly audible, guttural noises to a minimum, okay? 2. Weird interval treadmill guy. There's a guy I've seen more than once who seems to spend more time dangling from the sides of the machine, not walking or running, than doing anything else. For some reason this really bugs me when I'm next to him. Or perhaps just hanging from a moving treadmill by your arms is a great cardio exercise that I should try. 3. Guy lifting weights while wearing jeans. Just...no. 4. The weight machine hoverer-stalker. Look, I know you want to jump in and knock out a few sets. So do I. That's why I'm on the damn thing. And I'll be done as quickly as possible, I promise. 5. Not really getting any exercise on the exercise bike guy. This was an actual, singular person I spotted in front of me last week: kid in his 20s, in shape, wearing a backpack and sipping a cup of hot coffee while pedaling at a pace so slow the speedometer barely registered any movement. Warm up? Cool down? Odd way to pass time? Not sure, but he was playing hoops later. I can almost let the backpack go, but who doesn't just put that in a locker or toss it beside the machine? And hot coffee...really? Weird. 6. The oddly proportioned middle aged lady I always see jogging on the track who looks like Zorak from Space Ghost. She just creeps me out. 7. Old dudes way too psyched to be walking around the locker room nude. I understand it's a locker room. I'm not going to giggle like a third grader. But some guys seem like they are outright enjoying this time, strutting around like runway models on the cat walk. This just doesn't do much for me. 8. Guys that leave lockers full of their wet, smelly, sweaty gear and then close the locker and leave the key in it, leading one to believe that said locker is empty. Come on, man. I have no need to get a quick peek at your dirty drawers dry hanging on the hook. Just lock it up and take your key. It even has a little band so you can wear it on your wrist. 9. Smelly old man on the elliptical machine. It's just one dude in particular, but man, does he smell like pee.

Poor little A-Rod is tired

Slumping A-Rod to be sidelined two days with fatigue

Honestly.

That headline is pretty much the story. The guy's season in the majors started on May 8. So in less than six weeks of playing baseball, A-Rod has become so tired that the Yankees need to sit him down for not just one, but two ballgames.

Well, he did have surgery, so you may ask yourself, Is he sore? "No, he's not sore," said Yankee manager Joe Girardi from his spot on the hot seat.

Is he injured? Nope. He has played every game since his return.

Does he just suck now? A ha! We might be on to something. He is hitting .145 in June. He's 0 for his last 15. And for the season, he is batting a robust .212. This is probably as good a time as any to mention that his salary this year is $32 million, which doesn't include the $1 million portion of his signing bonus he received this year. I would calculate what that is going to cost on a per game basis, but that's tough to do since I don't know how often he will be too tired to go out and play nine innings of baseball.

The moral of all this? If you're a major leaguer that does 'roids, you deserve every single bad thing that happens to you.

A moron, and also a liar, apparently

No, I'm not talking about A-Rod again, although that headline certainly applies to him as well. I'm talking about one of my most loathed broadcasters of all time, the inimitable Joe Morgan. Anyone who knows me understands all too well my hatred for Simple Joe. Why do I despise him so? I could list many reasons, but two qualities stand out at the top: his endless and utterly predictable self-aggrandizing chestnuts, and his reliance on providing "analysis" so mundane that anyone with any remaining gray matter was already aware of what he was talking about, or so blatantly wrong that it is incomprehensible how he ever got handed a microphone in the first place.

On the first point, feel free to play my version of the Joe Morgan Drinking game next time you catch him in the booth. Take one swig for "I" or "me," two for any mention of a former teammate or opponent, and chug it all for a reference to Cincinnati or the Big Red Machine. Have an alcohol poison control center on speed dial if you actually attempt this. As for his riveting "color commentary," I don't even know where to begin. He is such a notoriously insipid announcer that there was even a website devoted to him which, alas, has closed. They dutifully tracked his endless Joe-isms. Here is a choice example of Morgan being Morgan. Bear in mind, this was actually said by a man being paid to analyze baseball at the highest level:

* On the Red Sox (vs. the Rays) in the 2008 ALCS: "They cannot beat them by outscoring them." Actually, that's the only way any team can beat any other team, Joe.

Anyway, I could cherry pick bad Morgan quotes all day. But today we have reached a new low, even for him. It's the perfect storm of Joe Morgan. Self-important reference? Check. Story about his glory days? Check. Blatantly false to absurd degrees? Check!

It Wasn't So, Joe!

Headed to AZ

I'm off to Scottsdale in a few hours for a good friend's bachelor party weekend. The timing couldn't be better after having seen The Hangover, which is absolutely hilarious. I don't think we'll be slipping any roofies into our Jagermeister, though. I'll Tweet and try to send some pics of the debauchery as it happens on my Twitter page, so if you're one of my good friends who is missing this weekend...well, shame on you, but at least you can track our action a little.

http://twitter.com/ccmccandless

Have a great weekend, everyone. I know I will!

I despise Randy Johnson

Rat-faced, mullet wearing jerk Randy Johnson recently won his 300th game, which means now is as good a time as any to explain why, to paraphrase Newman, I despise Randy Johnson.

It was spring of 1992 in Arizona and some friends and I had just seen him pitch in a spring training game. He was no star then. He hadn't even won 50 games in the bigs, and his only claim to fame was that he was the tallest pitcher ever to take the hill. The game was unremarkable--I have no recollection of how he did or whether the Mariners even won or lost the game. But I had a scorecard or program from the game with me when we went to grab a post-game burger at Flakey Jake's in Tempe. I spotted Randy at a nearby table and, as a big baseball fan, I thought it would be cool to get him to autograph something from the game on the same day I saw him pitch. I didn't want to bother him, so I waited patiently by the door until he was done eating. At the door, I politely said that I had watched him play and I wondered if he would sign my program. "God, you guys never leave us alone," he spat.

What a dick.